When We Escape
by connerchs
Summary: Original story. Death Note concept of being able to kill others. Focuses on the psychological effects on one if they kill others. Hope you enjoy.


**Original characters, plot, and just about everyting else. I only use the main concept of Death Note, being able to kill others. Enjoy.**

Part 1: Let Go

Chapter 1: Sense of a Spark

In this particular evening, the air was much warmer than it normally was. There was a certain crispness to it, a renewal from the heat. A man, maybe in his early twenties, was staring at a village. A fire had begun to spread. The bright, coalescing flames had completely enveloped it, but this was not what he was afraid of. He had seen this same scene one too many times. There was a voice. The voice. The same, dark, misleading inner voice that had brought him here before. It lured him here, speaking of muder and sin. The voice told him to burn. Even if he tried to resist, the voice brought him here. He could do nothing but stare into the fires breath, as if it was sent straight from hell. But not even this scared him. He expected all this, but not what was happening now. What was happening now was a beyond unexpected. The voice was singing. It always talked directly to him. It usually just told him to come to these places, and nothing else. And while he made his way there, it would continue to express it's feelings on the location. It would laugh at these people, going on rants about their lives, as if he knew every aspect about them. Maybe he did. The voice always talked down on the people he went to. But when he got there, he couldn't tell if the voice was right about it's accusations. The fire had already started by the time he got there.

But now the voice was singing. Its deep tone, the pattern of speech, everthing had changed. It began to chant a tune that was stuck in his head for an eternity, not even being seared out from the flames intense heat. It followed him wherever he went. No matter how hard he tried, it would always show up. Worse of all, the voice, the same one that led him to all of this, now sounded just like his.

"Burn baby burn, do away with them.

All of these flames will mark the end.

Don't worry baby, this burning is due.

All of this burning, its to protect you"

Judas shut down his laptop and went into the kitchen. He had played that game for so long that he had lost track of time. A package was suppossed to be delivered to his apartment at 5 that afternoon, but it was now 6. That was why he started playing in the first place, to pass the time.

As he poured himself a glass of water, he heard a knock at the door. He quickly rushed into the room, almost spilling the water all over the hardwood floor. Trying to look unangered, as not to make the deliveryman unsettled, he opened the door. When he did, he was suprised at what, and who he saw.

It was clear to him that the man wasn't the deliveryman. He wasn't in uniform, so he couldn't have been him. He was wearing a sheen, black suit. One you might wear to a wedding. His hands were behind his back, as if he was hiding something, and he had a wide grin on his face. As he continued to look him over, he noticed a box on the ground. It was a present, wrapped in a red silk ribbon. The box itself was white as snow, which was in such contrast to the man.

"Are you Judas Sullivan?"

Judas L. Sullivan, age 21, born on January 3rd, 1993, was a college student in his junior year. Since both of his parents were doctors, and he excelled at every subject, he was able to attend the University of Michigan. He decided to get an apartment not far from the school, so that he could focus on his studies. Since he was studying philosophy and had a test on Monday, he ordered some textbooks, and was expecting them. But now, this strange man stood before him, and he was looking for him.

"Hey, are you?"

Judas stared at the man, thinking of his next move, and how he would get rid of him. He was far to busy to deal with this. He looked back at his watch. If the books made it by 8:00, he should have enough time to study. So, he decided he would play this safe.

"Yes, I am. What is it you need?"

"Well, I have a little present for you. May I come in? I need you to sign for it."

Judas watched as the man reached down and grab the present box. He had been holding a clipboard and had set it down on the box. Reluctantly, Judas let the man inside his apartment. Maybe he was the deliveryman, but he couldn't be to sure. He was going to get some answers.

Judas shut the door, feeling a tremor throughout his arm. "Who are you and what's in the box?"

They both sat down on the couch and Nick slowly turned to him. His grin got even wider when he heard the question.

"My name is Nick, and in this lovely box, I have a once in a life time oppurtunity for you." He slowly opened the box, untying the ribbon. After removing the white wrapping paper, he lifted the top of a now black box to reveal a small USB drive. It too was white, but had the word "CROW" in bold, black letters etched onto it. He picked it up, put the lid back on the box, and looked back at Judas.

"Do you remember the "Crow" killings?" Nick was no longer grinning. He began to dither around the room, letting the unsettling question sit in Judas's mind. The "Crow" killings, as they had been called by various conspiracy sites on the internet, were a series of death from 2007 to 2011. Over 20 people were killed, showing signs related to that of a heart attack, but none of the victims showed any medical causes that could have led them to having heart attacks. Even stranger, the people had no connection, and the deaths were scattered all across the United States. Doctors and scientists were baffled by the deaths, and so were all the others on the internet. But in December of 2011, a member of a chatroom who said he was responsible for the deaths of those people. He called himself the Crow, and became popular during the rest of the month, but forgotten and ignored by the police next year. The "Crow" stopped posting in May, but there was still various websites that mentioned him. Judas followed stories like this, but was not interested in.

"Yes. I have heard of them. What about them?"

Nick leaned in and whispered, making the conversation ominous. He placed his warm hand, burning almost, on Judas's shoulder and stared him in the eyes, still grinning.

"Would you like to become the Crow?"

Judas stared back into his eyes. "Wha- What do you mean?"

"I know. Its a silly question, isn't it?" Nick backed up and span around the room. He let out a slight laugh and than stared expressionlessly at the wall. He looked back at Judas, now grinning again, and said the phrase that put Judas on the edge.

"How would you like to kill?"

The room was silent. Judas just sat motionless, his eyes fixed on Nick. He was getting more and more worried.

"You're joking, right?"

Nick just snickered at his question. "Judas, come sit down with me." Nick sat down at Judas's laptop and, before Judas could stop him, put the USB drive into the computer and opened the only file.

"Please, sit down and look. I'm sure you'll enjoy." Nick backed away from the desk and let Judas sit down. Judas saw a list of names. He stared in shock at the names. He was in pure disbelief of what he saw.

"These, these are the people that all died, aren't they?" Sweat began to drip down his neck.

"Yes they are, with dates and locations of there deaths. Now click that." Nick pointed to a word at the top of the screen. It said "Log" and it brought him to a blank page. "Now, this is what you use."

Judas turned slowly turned to look back at Nick, whose face was filled with angst. "What do you mean 'use'."

Nick raised an eyebrow at the question. "This is how you kill. All you do is type in the name followed by the phrase 'must die' and, well, I think you get the rest."

"But why would I want to kill someone?" Judas was beyond scared, he was feeling a sense of euphoria, one only encountered when in the presence of death. He hated what the man was saying. Was he mocking him? This had to be some sick joke that was being played on him, but it was still an interesting idea. True, he had hated some people before, but he would never kill anyone. He wasn't going to be some criminal who went around slaughtering people just because he felt like it. Who would do such a thing? His heart began to sink, his eyes were twitching, and his throat had a catch in it. "Why are you doing this to me? Is this a joke? I will not tolerate this. If you don't get out of my home this instant, I will..."

"Try it"

Judas stopped. He stood and looked at Nick, who was laughing at his threat. "If you don't believe me, then try it. I have someone you can kill right now."

"Wh-Who?"

"You ever hear of Jack Hill, that man who shot up that high school and killed 3 people?" Nick twirled a pen between his fingers, wandering around the room. "He's awaiting his trial right now, and he'll probably get life in prison, but you can say otherwise. Just type in 'Jack Hill must die' and he'll be dead in under a minute."

Judas places his hands on the keyboard. He had heard of this man. One of the victims was his old teacher. The story had been on the news, and Judas was going to his funeral next weekend. He was great friends with that teacher, and he could feel his fingers clench in anger, fueling his now present rage.

Nick headed to the door. "If you need anymore help, my information is under the section titled 'Assist'. It will also give you a list of criminals, incase you need to kill some more people." Judas walked to the door with him, stumbling along the way. "But why did you choose me? Is this even real? Tell me."

"Just call me, i'll stop by whenever you want me to." He stepped outside into the cold breeze. He pulled a pair of gloves out of his pockets and turned back to look at Judas. He was no longer grinning. For once, he looked sincere and, just like Judas, worried of what was soon to come.

"Lets hope this works out for both of us.

And with that he was gone


End file.
